正念和意見.

的現實, 正念和意見.

只是最近我有一個新的興趣在佛教, 並已閱讀關於禪和內觀冥想方法​​,它讓我對現實思想.

這是說,在佛教教義的理解的原因 ‘痛苦’ (只是一切可以引起情緒, 身體和精神上的痛苦), 通過我們的正念和冥想不僅可以過的幸福生活,也解除的面紗,以防止我們看到的東西,因為他們真的是.

這是什麼意思? 很多年前, 在澳大利亞,我買了一把刀, 我從來沒有真正想過很多刀,但閱讀文章某處由摩洛瑞典著名刀, 關於優鋼葉片和尖銳的刀片如何可以錘成樹刀片,手柄上的立場,以及如何在有需要時摩洛刀會不會讓你失望, 在我蘭博是垂涎三尺. 我只是有一個.

多年來經歷了從家庭到家庭,刀, ,老實說,它不會讓我失望, 多年來,它已被菜刀和日常使用, 為年齡刀片保持鋒利,很容易激化時,需要.

它已經在歐洲和澳大利亞宿營與我, 雖然皮革持有人腐爛年前離開這是我值得信賴的刀或!

正念的做法是對我的治療, 很難解釋在口頭上的經驗,但是這是因為如果正常,我的經驗在正念的狀態觀測時,通過一個過濾器,是缺席的生命, 我意識到在正念是有感知的清晰度, 無論是我們的擴展泥石膏散步或拍打狗. 所以我mindfully洗了一天,當我信任的摩洛刀的紅色處理出現通過芳香的肥皂泡沫和我第一次看到它,因為它真的是, 它是一把刀!

確定做不笑, 當然,它一直是刀, 現實並沒有改變,, 是什麼改變了第一次 25 年,它已不再 ‘我’ 刀, 它不再是一個代表性 ‘蘭博’ 在我, 它不再是為我的事,因為其質量的自豪感, 它究竟有什麼, 一把刀.

該 ‘我’ 不見了, the ‘幻想求生存’ had gone, the ‘所有權的驕傲’ had gone, the 在216;是什麼刀代表我’ had gone. 去了什麼, 一把刀.

這已經我了解面紗是什麼第一的洞察力,以防止我們看到的現實. 抓的東西,我的智力理解,但是這是我第一次真正的現實意識, 我第一次看到了沒有現實的情感的面紗, 自我, 痛苦, 抓, 沒有意見.

這一切都發生在幾秒鐘當然的,但它是通過抓我自以為是一個非常強大的幾秒鐘,一個非常具有象徵意義的教訓意識切割刀, 基於現實的主觀自我.

這引起了我對象的現實思考, 以及和同時性的討論我參與,我自己在, 在我們的世界是客觀現實?

我看著在政治, 醫藥, 法律制度, 時裝, 和愉悅的只有三件事,我們遇到的客觀, 所有隨附某種疼痛, 我們出生, 我們會死,一切都變了. 事實上死亡本身就是主觀的死亡證明已經書面太平間板坯明顯活著的人, 當然,有一個活體腦死亡, 所有這一切是基於這當然是主觀的意見, 但我們最終會死,但什麼是死亡?

該法是基於合理的懷疑, 以及如果有任何疑問,那麼,不能客觀, 政治不會在客觀世界的存在,有沒有必要為政治意見或討論.

我帶著這些想法,直到出現一個有趣的結論, 在客觀世界中,我們將停止在這分離的形式存在,從對方.

當然,這只是我的主觀意見!

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Spring Water giving life to Jorox

 

天氣阻止了我的工作近來, 所以,我決定把我的相機我們的小村莊 Jorox左右散步. 在以前的散步,我看到一對西班牙貓鼬, 蟾蜍大作為一個小足球和最近的IBEX家庭, 當然,我看到的最好的景點只有當我離開了我的相機背後! 所以,你只是將不得不採取我的話!

At the top of Jorox is this unremarkable hole in the rock covered in a concrete ‘監獄’ 結構. 正如你可以看到它是一個春天, a spring that supplies the whole of Jorox with spring water for drinking and irrigation.

是的,我們喝的! 直出的山, as did the Jorox cave dwellers over 30,000 年前. Jorox有許多洞穴,已發現證據,從舊石器時代人類生活的聯繫, 與劍齒虎和猛獁象清涼潔淨的泉水.

後來在人類發展, long after the Sabre Tooth Tiger had disappeared the Muslim Moors drank  this spring water, 切Jorox山坡岩石中的水渠道灌溉土地和摩爾人後,由天主教西班牙刪除, mills were built along the Moorish irrigation canals to capture the power of this spring to mill locally grown grain. 在佛朗哥銑床的糧食在這裡的時間是非法的, 一個值得驕傲的Jorox前居民,保持他像一個博物館古老的家族工廠告訴我帶來的糧食是由高貴的安達盧西亞騾子沿著秘密跟踪在夜間和碾磨秘密,就好像它是一種藥物.

目前只有約 20間房屋,這裡現在, 全年只有兩個其他的房子都住在.

今年春天, 這裡的生活,因為之前的歷史和整個人類歷史,河Jorox源一直支持, 也有過物種來, 可能幾個冰河期,仍流一年四季都給予生活.

在村莊的中心是一所天主教聖地, 含情脈脈往往被忽略,而春天留在其醜陋的混凝土監獄單獨包裹下公路橋, 沒有人去那裡感謝或接受其癒合秘密, 以及沒有任何更多的,但如何不同,它可能已被.

已知最早的巫師無可爭議的埋葬 (通過擴展的巫師和薩滿教的做法的最早的無可爭議的證據) 追溯到舊石器時代早期時代 (C.30,000BP) 在現在的捷克共和國。“ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paleolithic

As I stood next to the spring in the rain I could imagine early humans drinking the spring water, revering this gift from the earth. 彷彿從黑暗的黑社會無處這生命源永不落幕的流動日光.

歷史上的異教徒看到水作為其他世界的門戶和智慧和癒合的源泉.

在某種程度上, Brigid, the Celtic Goddess associated with healing wells and spring water is a bridge between the Catholic faith and the shaman-ism of pre history. 布里奇特聖是天主教相當於.

二月 1 或二月 2 Brigid Imbolc蓋爾節日慶祝時,她的土地帶來了春天的第一蛛絲馬跡. 羅馬天主教, 東正教基督徒和一些聖公會紀念這一天,聖 Brigid盛宴; 節也被稱為燭和淨化處女“ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brigid

When the Catholic faithful tend our little shrine on Candlemas I will walk on to the spring and stand a while by an unbroken link to humanity’s beginnings. Imbolc是一個淨化的時間, 我會洗泉水和打坐,我想為我的成長我的家人和這個地球在未來一年.

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Just a funny story about death.

I have a category namedstrange’, this is for life stories, strange or interesting things that have happened to me during my life, this weeks post is one of thosestrangestories.

This is a very true story, all people and places in this story are real so I cannot identify who and where.

To set the scene, I was working for the NHS in O….., living in a converted ambulance, it was Friday morning before a weekend of raving in the wild Welsh hills.

I arrived at work at as usual at 7 am got a coffee, sat down to be informed of the unit’s previous night’s problems and was introduced to a student nurse who was to be training with us for the next couple of days. While the talking continued I could hear some very deep breathing, in fact one could describe it as a loud gasping. I asked the nurse in charge what that noise was and was told it was J, he hadn’t slept well that night, he had just sat up all night in a chair in the lounge.

The hand over continued and so did the noise until I just had to go and check on him, it just didn’t sound very good to me.

Before training as a nurse I had done half of a course on traditional Chinese medicine, the first two years, the years I actually did , were mainly involved with methods of diagnosis, one of which was pulse diagnosis.

I walked into the lounge and there was J asleep, breathing very heavily with long gaps between each breath.

I took his pulse and realised he was dying, I called the nurse in charge and in he came with student nurse.

I told them J was dying and was met with complete disbelief from the nurse in charge and a look of abject fear on the face of the poor student.

He is just tired” said the nurse in charge, “He is dying” I repeated,

No he just breaths like that” replied, a by now, very scared looking nurse in charge.

He is dying” I repeated.

Now part of me wanted to laugh as anyone familiar with the Monty PythonParrot Sketchwill see the funny side to this conversation, but inside I knew what I had to.

J was about to die. What he may or may not have been conscious of at the time I do not know but ignoring the nurse in charge’s conversation I held J in my arms until, telling him it was all OK that he had nothing to fear, the breathing became shallower and shallower until his life spirit left.

Now I describe this moment as I felt it to be, everything that had been J just seemed to leave his earthly body, it felt like I was left holding just some skin and bone.

The skin and bone let out one last gasp, the nurse in charge said “look see he is just sleeping” I stood up and turned to the other two completely clueless as to what they should be doing and took charge of the situation.

J is dead, call the doctor” I said to the frozen nurse in charge and beckoned to the student to help get what was once J into a wheel chair so we could take his body to his room.

The rest of my shift was worked and after having a chat with J’s wife I was allowed to leave early.

I got some sleep, woke up and got some food and when the people I was giving a lift to arrived we set off for Wales in my home.

There is something really cool about being a snail, that is taking one’s home everywhere one goes, finally we arrived at the turn off that took us up high into the welsh hills forestry land, as I parked up I felt like I had earned the weekend of fun that was about to happen.

And so at about 11 pm I self medicated (having prescribed myself an ecstasy tablet) and walked down to where the party was taking place. Needing to urinate I walked over to a bush and began to pee, as I looked up at the stars I thought of J, wondering where he was now and asked him if everything was now OK, as the ecstasy began to take effect I continued to think of the day’s events and this time I allowed myself to laugh at the tragic comedy of myParrot Sketchconversation. And then a realisation of my present situation made me really burst out in loud laughter, I had suddenly realised anyone looking at me would have been watching a guy for twenty minutes or so standing in front of a bush holding his willy babbling to himself and then breaking down in hysterical laughter.

I zipped up and joined the festivities !!

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Life Death and the Spirit World

Two unusual things happened  this week, the first was that I read a book! I rarely read anything, I look, I scan, I take on the general meaning but there is always so much else to do that I almost never actually sit down and take the time to just read , think and enjoy.

The second unusual thing that happened was that my uncle finally succumbed to the tumour in his brain.

The book I read took a humorous look at Paganism, ‘Patchwork of Magicby Julia Day. I have always been achild of nature’, my most spiritual moments have been where nature in it’s antiquity spoke to me and when synchronicity opened up new direction . I noticed that Julia Day’s book was written at about the same time I wrote The Map I would like to include this extract from The Map about a visit to Glastonbury.

As we walked up the snaking path up towards the Tor, through theMists of Avalonmy climbing steps merged into the rhythm being drummed out by a group of dreadlocked travelers huddled in the tower at the top of the Tor, every step took me higher, higher into the swirling mist, back to a Celtic dream-time.

Suddenly we broke through the mist, the Tor was now only about two hundred yards away, bathed in the silvery light of the full moon that had been our guiding light.

I Gazed purposefully, straight at the tower, I did not want to look around me until I had reached the vantage point of the tower, the tower stones amplifying the hypnotic tribal rhythm, calling to the spirit of the earth, a metaphorical mouth to mouth resuscitation, breathing life into mythology.

I reached the tower and then allowed myself to take in the most awe inspiring sight I have ever seen in my life.

The moon was bigger and brighter than I have ever seen it before, the stars seemed to have grown and multiplied in number, I have never seen so many, so clear and all this silvery light shone down on the sea of mist below us that covered all but upper parts of the surrounding hills.

As I stood on the Tor I could feel the magic, the power and the spirit of the earth, I was on the mythological Isle of Avalon, at one with spirit and fable, at one with myself.

I was fortunate enough to be given the experience of the preciousness of life’s experience that night in Glastonbury, and as my family mourns the death of a brother, a husband, a father and an uncle it brings back to me that the real magic in life is in its contact with the spirit world to which we are brought when death is close by, reminding us of what really matters in our lives.

My uncle would not of held the beliefs I speak of above but I hope he doesn’t mind me remembering him through the mist of a Pagan perspective that celebrates the preciousness of the spirit in life and the spirit in  death.

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